The End is Nigh

I just heard from my agent in place in Massachusetts. Except for one large metal flat file, the Barn is empty. Savor that for a moment, will you? 90-odd years of my father's papers; antiques; beds; artwork by my father, my brother, even my awful self; cobwebs; mouse corpses; dust; bits of stray iron; household chemicals. All gone. Either given away, in the hands of auctioneers, in the dumpsters or (in the case of the dead TVs and dead computer and the household chemical stuff which cannot be routinely dumped at the dump) taken away for disposal elsewhere. The agent for the buyer professes himself to be pleased (of course, he'd seen the place before-hand, and my well have doubted that we could ever get everything out) and the lawn has been mowed. And my father, bless him, seems to have moved on without much trouble (I was afraid that when the Barn went, so would he; when I last saw him he told me he has enough money to last until he's 100, but after that he's my problem. I said: bring it on).

Closing is June 7th, God willing and the dam don't break. Cross fingers...

Read and Return

Okay, I wrote about this elsewhere, but it's still gnawing on me.

At the airport in Cincinnati on the way home, I came upon a Paradies bookstore that was advertising a "Read and Return" program. I didn't have time to ask the questions I would have liked to ask; maybe someone trundling through here knows more than I?

* The program write up says: buy a book in Anchorage (for example), read it, and return it within six months (with sales receipt, of course) for a 50% refund. As a reader I say: cool. As a writer, maybe not so much so.

* Given that chain bookstores generally get their books at about 50% of cover price, this suggests that they're making no money if someone returns a book. I suspect they're relying on sloth (my favorite deadly sin) and disorganization: people buy books intending to return them, but forget, or aren't done with them when they're near a Paradies store, or give them to Aunt Myrtle instead. That would keep the losses down to a minimum.

* But some people must be returning the books. What happens to them? Are they resold as new? (That would be Wrong, but Wrong doesn't always stop corporations. I'm not saying Paradies is reselling them as new, I'm just curious.) Are they taken off to a deep-discount remainder bookstore and sold there?

* It's also not clear to me whether this program extends to all books or just to bestsellers, hardcovers, trade paperbacks. I mean, you can return a hardcover with nary a mark on it, if you're the tidy sort. But it's hard to read a paperback--especially a fat, juicy airplane read--without cracking the spine. And (I hang my head in shame) I dog-ear. Will they accept dog-earred books? (Imagining, briefly, the Dog Ear Police, thumbing through, tut-ing angrily.)

This program has been in operation for several years. I haven't heard any outrage from SFWA or MWA or much of anyone else, which suggests that no one thinks the writers are getting gypped out of anything. But I sure would love to know the mechanics of the program.